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We'd had a fair few beers and were feeling pretty ballsy so we hailed a cab and I (as the only somewhat capable Spanish speaker) asked directly if he could take us somewhere where we could score some coke. The driver's cool with this and starts driving us around the dodgier neighbourhoods of downtown Santiago asking hookers and pimps and general lowlives if they can help us out.
Eventually this seriously rough looking mofo agrees and gets into the front seat beside the driver - me and my mate in the back. So this dealer turns around to face us and he's like 'Cuanto grammes quieres?' I'm like 'Solo uno - gracias'. He's all 'No - no, cinco'.
So i figure fuck it - why not? It's cheap as hell so I agree. He turns away fro a sec and when he looks back at us again I see he's holding a huge fucking knife, serrated edge and all and he's pointing it directly at me. I'm like - oh fuck. This is the bit where we lose all our money, passports and maybe a kidney. It's only then that I spot a little pile of white powder on the tip of the blade and he's like' Quieres probar?' So cool as anything I lean forward, snort it off the end of the dagger and like some fucking connoisseur I'm all ' Si - es bueno. Cinco grammes.' I felt like a badass motherfucker.
